Chapter 5

Diana's pov:

Monday morning—the pinnacle of human achievement. There's nothing quite like the joy of being jolted awake by the deafening sound of an alarm that seems to know exactly when you're at your most comfortable. Who wouldn't want to wake up early, barely rested, and excited to throw on that outfit you meticulously planned five minutes before going to bed last night?

Let's talk about the absolute delight of getting up. Forget the soft warmth of your blanket—the best part is the immediate, visceral regret of existing. The second my feet hit the cold floor, my body enters a state of shock. The muscles i never realized i had begin to protest, as if my body is wondering, "Why in the world would you do this to me?" Yet, I get up anyway, like a trooper, because who doesn't love a challenge first thing in the morning?

Then, there’s the lovely time spent in the bathroom. The mirror, always so encouraging, reveals my disheveled hair and the bags under my eyes. But hey, who needs sleep when you can dive straight into the swirling abyss of caffeine? A quick glance at the clock confirms that I have precisely zero time to eat breakfast. Who needs food when I have the thrilling sensation of hunger accompanying me through the entire school day?

And let's not forget the absolute joy of trudging to school. The streets are always packed with cars, because apparently, everyone else has the same idea: they, too, want to experience the joy of rush hour traffic on Monday. Public transportation is a real winner, too, where I'm so crammed that i forget what personal space even feels like. At least it's a great opportunity to brush up on my patience—or to consider whether the human race should be saved from extinction.

Once I finally make it to school, the fun doesn't stop. There's that elusive feeling of excitement as I realize I'm about to spend the next six hours surrounded by people I may or may not have seen during the weekend—assuming i wasn't busy doing absolutely nothing of importance, as weekends are meant for. But no, I'm back in the classroom, prepared for the riveting, edge-of-my-seat action that is taking notes on things I'll forget within 24 hours.

Sure, there are teachers with their so-called enthusiasm, talking to me like I'm going to remember everything they're saying. I,  on the other hand, am mentally counting down the seconds until I can escape into the comfort of my next class, where the cycle repeats in an endless loop of joy and wonder.

So, there i have it. Waking up on a Monday morning for school is basically the greatest thing to ever happen to humanity. There's no need for weekends when i can enjoy this thrill ride every single week. Let's all give a round of applause for the Monday morning school experience. Truly, it’s what dreams are made of—or rather, nightmares.

First stop: Chemistry with Ms. Collins. Ah, Ms. Collins, the embodiment of all things terrifying and strict. As soon as I walked into the classroom, I could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife. The way she looked at us—like she could see every single mistake we were about to make before we even did it—was truly inspiring. And of course, my lab partner spilled acid on the table within five minutes, and Ms. Collins noticed immediately. You could practically see her calculating the ways she could ruin our lives for this mistake in real-time. The entire lesson felt like a ticking time bomb, and I was just waiting for her to assign the "extra credit" assignment that definitely wasn’t extra.

Next, math. My favorite subject (not). Let’s just say that when the teacher asked if anyone needed help with the lesson, I was so good at pretending I knew what was going on that even I believed it. But deep down, I was just sitting there, contemplating how much easier life would be if I just, I don't know, skipped math entirely and became a professional napper. However, this was not in the cards for me today, because the moment I put my pen down, the teacher came over and asked me to explain a formula I couldn’t even remember writing. It was like I was trapped in some sick, twisted version of a game show, and I was losing. Miserably.

Then, biology. Oh, biology. The subject where everything was supposed to make sense, yet I found myself sitting there wondering why mitochondria still somehow felt like a made-up thing. The teacher went on and on about cell division, which, at this point, felt like the ultimate betrayal. I mean, why do we even need to know about cells dividing? They divide, they live, they die—done. Yet here I was, pretending to take notes on things that would never make it to my memory bank.

Finally, PE. The absolute crowning achievement of my day. Now, you might think, “Ah, PE, that’s where you get to run around and enjoy the sunshine, right?” Wrong. It was freezing outside, and the coach had the brilliant idea of making us run laps in the bitter cold. I don't know if it was the wind or the sheer misery of it all, but my legs felt like they were going to give out halfway through lap three. Naturally, the coach did not care. Instead, he called me out for not being "enthusiastic enough." I gave him my most “enthusiastic” smile, which probably looked like I was having a mild seizure.

By the end of the day, I was pretty sure that the universe had conspired against me. Between Ms. Collins, math that made no sense, biology that was just a string of meaningless terms, and PE that nearly killed me, I was ready to take a nap so long that I might wake up in a different decade. But no, tomorrow was a new day, and I was sure it would be even better. Because, after all, school is always a joyride, right?

I take a deep breath as I see my friends approaching me. I haven't seen them in ages because they had different classes than I did today. Usually, we have the same classes, but Mondays and Wednesdays are the days when we barely see each other.

"God, hey Diana. FINALLY school is over for today. I'm totally spent." Abby starts the conversation as soon as they reach me.

"Hey guys, and absolutely me too. Today was horrible. I had Ms.Collins' class at 8am. It was truly horrible." I tell my friends as I grab my bag and close my locker.

"Ms.Collins' class at 8am? Girl, you're a survivor."  Chole, my best friend shrugs, adjusting her top and making me laugh.

"Oh 100%, it was absolutely horrible. I swear, she knows how to make me want to die" I roll my eyes, walking with my friends towards the school doors, meaning I'm walking towards freedom.

"Not so fast, girls." I hear a painfully familiar voice from behind me, already knowing what is waiting for me.

"Ms.Collins" Abby sighs as we all turn around to look at her.

"Alisa. I believe you did your chemistry homework last weekend after buying those snacks from the store."  The teacher tilts her head. If looks could kill, my whole friend group would be dead by now.

"Yes, Ms.Collins, I did in fact do the homework you so happily gave us last Friday" I smile back, making the taller woman raise her eyebrow.

"Tsk, tsk. Talk back as much as you want, nothing ever lasts forever, no." She mumbles, giving me and my friends a very judgmental look.

After giving us a silent warning, Ms. Collins strides past with an effortless confidence, her loose black pants swaying gently with each step, the leather belt cinching her waist adding a hint of sharp structure to her otherwise fluid movements. Her white blouse is immaculate, the fabric crisp and clean, and the black tie she wears hangs neatly, lending her a sense of poise and authority. Her straight black hair, perfectly styled, falls just so around her face, framing her features with an understated elegance. There’s a quiet intensity about her as she moves, a presence that seems to demand attention without asking for it.

"Hey guys I'm going to the restroom,be right back" I inform my friends, leaving them alone for now.

Just when I leave the bathroom, the school officially ends, and the familiar chaos of a Monday afternoon filled the school. Lockers slammed shut, laughter and chatter echoed through the halls, but for me, it all faded into background noise. I was leaving school, finally. Even if it was just for 16  hours.

Chloe and Nora were already waiting by the flagpole when I stepped outside, leaning against the metal post like they’d been there for hours. Chloe's expression is focused as she fidgeted with her phone, while Nora stood with her arms crossed, pretending not to care but clearly impatient. Abby was with them, standing just a little ahead, her arms crossed but in that confident, deliberate way that screamed she was ready for me.

“Took you long enough,” Abby said as soon as I approached. She tilted her head, her dark eyes practically daring me to make her wait any longer.

“Traffic in the halls,” I joked, but my smile faltered under her steady gaze. She always had this way of making me feel like I was on stage, and today, it was more intense than ever.

Chloe was the first to pull me into a hug, the faint smell of her strawberry shampoo filling the air as she squeezed me tightly. “Don’t forget about us while you’re gone,” she teased, her voice light, but her hold lingered just a second too long.

“Chloe, I’m gone for one day,” I laughed, but there was an edge to my voice I couldn’t quite hide.

“Still,” she muttered, pulling back and giving me a look. “You better text me, or I’ll find a way to make you regret it.”

Nora stepped in next, her cool exterior cracking just a little. “Try not to forget your way back, alright?” she said, smirking, but her voice wavered at the end.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, Nora,” I reminded her. “You’re acting like I’m moving across the country.”

“Feels like it,” she said with a shrug, but she didn’t pull away as I clapped her on the shoulder.

Then there was Abby. She stepped forward with the kind of confidence that made everyone else seem like they were standing still. “So,” she said, arms still crossed but a smirk tugging at her lips. “One whole day without us. Think you can handle it?”

“Pretty sure I’ll survive,” I shot back, trying to match her tone.

“Uh-huh.” She raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

Before I could say anything else, she stepped closer and threw her arms around me, catching me off guard. Her hug was warm and firm, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “You better come back,” she whispered, her voice low enough that only I could hear. “I don’t like people who disappear.”

When she pulled back, her smirk was gone, replaced by something softer, something real. I wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in my throat.

The three of them stood together as I walked towards home, their faces illuminated by the fading sunlight. I turned back once, catching Abby watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read, before she turned and said something that made Chloe and Nora laugh.

The walk home from school in New York was always an experience. The city seemed alive in a way no other place could be—cars honking, people rushing past with coffee cups and shopping bags, the occasional street performer playing their heart out on a saxophone. I adjusted the strap of my backpack, weaving through the crowd as the late afternoon sun cast golden light on the streets.

When I got to our brownstone, I could already smell something cooking. Dad must’ve beaten me home. I stepped inside and kicked off my sneakers.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dad called from the kitchen, where he was standing over a pot on the stove. “How was school?”

“Pretty good,” I said, dropping my bag by the stairs and heading toward him. He was making spaghetti, his signature dish, and the smell of garlic and tomato sauce filled the air. “My chemistry teacher definitely hates me, though. It's confirmed now."

“Hates you already? It’s only been a week!” He grinned, handing me a wooden spoon with a bit of sauce on it to taste.

“She’s...strict,” I said, taking a bite. “But, you know me. I might’ve annoyed her on purpose.”

He gave me that look—the one that was half-amused, half-‘what am I going to do with you?’ “Just don’t push too hard, Diana. You’re not exactly known for keeping a low profile.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know, I know. I’ll behave.”

Dinner was relaxed, as it always was with Dad. We talked about his day at work, about how Chloe and I were settling into school, and about the million little things that made up life in New York. It was nice, just sitting there with him, the hum of the city outside our window.

After we cleaned up, I grabbed my bag and trudged upstairs to my room. The faint sound of the city still reached me even with the windows closed, but it was comforting, like a reminder that I wasn’t alone. I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. Another day down. New York was still new, still exciting, but it was also overwhelming.

As I lay there, my mind wandered back to school—to Ms. Collins’ sharp gaze and the way her words seemed to cut through the noise in my head. A small smirk tugged at my lips. Maybe tomorrow, I’d give her an even harder time.

Though I knew the school books inside my bag won't wait, so I grab my school bag and  take out my books.

The textbooks were spread out across my desk, their pages blurring together in a jumble of formulas and diagrams that made my head spin. Chemistry homework. My sworn enemy. I tapped my pencil against the desk, glaring at the question in front of me as though sheer willpower would make the answer appear. It didn’t.

Balancing equations. It sounded simple enough in class when Ms. Collins rattled it off in that crisp, no-nonsense tone of hers. But now? Sitting here, staring at the same problem for the fifth time? It might as well have been written in another language. Maybe french. Abby is half French if I remember right. Maybe she could help.

I leaned back in my chair and let out a groan loud enough to scare the bird outside of my window.“Why do I even need to know this?” I muttered to myself, scribbling out an attempt at the answer and quickly realizing it was wrong. Again.

A part of me considered texting Chloe for help. She’d probably roll her eyes and tell me I should’ve been paying attention in class instead of trying to get under Ms. Collins’ skin. She wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t make me want to hear it.

I glanced at the clock. Almost an hour had passed, and I had barely made a dent in the assignment. Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I dropped my pencil onto the desk with a sharp clatter. The idea of handing in a blank worksheet crossed my mind for a split second, but I could already picture Ms. Collins’ raised eyebrow and the inevitable lecture that would follow.

“Okay, Diana,” I told myself, taking a deep breath. “You’ve got this. Just…think.”

I tried breaking it down step by step, following the examples in the textbook as carefully as I could. Still, every answer I came up with seemed just a little bit off. My brain felt like it was running on fumes, and the more I stared at the page, the less sense it made.

Finally, I slammed the book shut, leaning my forehead against it in defeat. “Chemistry: one, Diana: zero,” I mumbled into the cover.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear Ms. Collins’ voice, telling me to focus and figure it out. And somehow, that made me want to try again. But not tonight. Tonight, the battle was over, and Chemistry had won. Like it always does.

With a frustrated sigh, I shoved the book aside and grabbed my phone. If I couldn’t balance equations, maybe I could at least text Abby and salvage what was left of my night.

Me: "Chemistry is evil. Officially. Send help."

It didn’t take long for her to respond. Abby was one of those people who always seemed to have her phone on her, ready to jump into a conversation at a moment’s notice.

Abby: "Told you that class was gonna kill you. Ms. Collins out to destroy your soul yet?"

Me: "Oh, she’s working on it. Pretty sure she’s winning."

I could almost hear Abby’s laugh through the screen as the typing bubble popped up.

Abby: "Maybe if you actually paid attention instead of trying to annoy her every second…"

Me:"Where’s the fun in that? Gotta keep life interesting."

Abby: "Yeah, because what’s more interesting than failing Chemistry?"

I laughed, leaning back in my chair. Abby always knew how to make me feel a little less like I was drowning, even if she had a habit of calling me out.

Me: "Okay, Ms. Perfect, what would YOU do?"

Abby: "I’d come over and do your homework for you. But then you’d owe me."

I stared at the screen for a second, her words catching me off guard. There was something in the way she phrased it, like she wasn’t just joking. But before I could overthink it, another message popped up.

Abby: "Like…a lifetime of snacks. Or maybe a free coffee every day forever."

I grinned. Abby had a way of making everything feel lighter, like maybe I wasn’t completely hopeless.

Me: "Deal. You solve this mess, and I’ll start your coffee tab tomorrow."

Abby: "Tempting. But seriously, Diana, you’re gonna be okay. You’re smarter than you think."

Her message made me pause, something warm stirring in my chest. Abby always said stuff like that, stuff that made me feel seen in a way I didn’t really understand. I have known her for a little while only, and she already knows me so well.

Me: "Thanks, Abby. You’re kind of the best, you know that?"

Her response took a little longer this time.

Abby: "Yeah, well…don’t forget it."

I set my phone down, a small smile lingering on my lips. I didn’t solve my Chemistry homework, but talking to Abby made the night feel a little less like a disaster. Maybe tomorrow, I’d try again. Or maybe Abby really would come over and save me. Either way, at least I wasn’t dealing with it alone.